


About a Tree

by finem



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Christmas, Christmas Tree, Gift Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Romance, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 11:46:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1172684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finem/pseuds/finem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts with a felled tree and a sprained ankle, but ends with both Arthur and Merlin getting everything they want for Christmas. Note: No Gingerbread men were injured in the making of this fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	About a Tree

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starkickback](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkickback/gifts).



> This is actually a really late entry for the December theme over at Merlin Writers. I believe the saying for moments like this is "Better late than never," right? ^^; This is also a bit of a gift fic for my roomie, starkickback, who won a mighty battle today against a deadline! Here is your reward, as promised. I finally got it done! \\(^o^)/
> 
> Anyway, here's the fic. I'm currently between betas so my apologies in advance for the errors I have missed...
> 
> Original Prompt:  
> Getting a Christmas tree- Merlin decides to get his Christmas tree the old fashioned way this year, by chopping one down. But it just so happens the tree he's chosen to ax is on Pendragon property. Uther/Arthur are not pleased about this.

Arthur knew all about Merlin Emerson; knew where he worked, where he lived, his curry of choice, his favorite café. Arthur knew absolutely everything about the man, but it was through no fault of his own. No, no. He had his half-sister to thank for his abundance of knowledge, because Merlin Emerson was Morgana’s best-friend, and as such, it was next to impossible not to know everything about the man; not if Arthur wanted to keep his man-bits intact. 

When Merlin had gotten the job at the small advertising firm he’d been gunning for, Arthur had been forced to sit through the celebratory dinner that Morgana had planned for him. When Merlin finally finished his thesis project, Arthur had been subjected to hours of Morgana expounding on how “impossibly talented” the man was. When Merlin’s uncle, Gaius, had passed earlier that year, Morgana volunteered their shared flat for the repast, though in that matter Arthur was happy to oblige. Gaius had been like family.

That is beside the point, however. The point was, that Arthur knew all about Merlin Emerson, but rarely encountered him without Morgana’s involvement, which is why the very last thing that Arthur expected to find upon investigating the commotion on his father’s property one crisp, winter afternoon, was Merlin Emerson half buried in snow, apparently wresting with a tree.

“Excuse me,” Arthur called out, doing his best to convey every bit of irritation that he could in the two words. The sound of his voice was apparently enough to get the other man’s attention. The chaos of flying snow and lashing foliage stopped abruptly and a pair of grey-blue eyes turned to focus on Arthur.

“Oh,” was predictably the first thing out of Merlin’s mouth. “Arthur? What are you doing here?”

Arthur gave himself a count of three to edit his immediate response, then, “This is my family’s property. I have every right to be here. You on the other hand…” Arthur took that moment to make a few observations. There was an axe and a saw laying in the snow beside the tree that Merlin was half buried under as well as a sleigh and rope enough to bind a tree to it. It didn’t take much creativity to understand what was happening here.

“You are trespassing and attempting to rob me,” Arthur concluded, and could not have been more please with himself for the outraged expression it caused on Merlin’s face.

“I’m doing no such thing!” he said, as his battle with the conifer began anew. “I didn’t—ouch—even know you lived here until just now. And it’s not like you need all of these trees! Who lives in the middle of the woods anyway?!”

Arthur, refusing to have this discussion with a flailing tree, reached down and lifted the thing off of Merlin. He quickly disentangled the branches that had become caught in the ties of Merlin’s jacket and put the tree to the side. Merlin proceeded to attempt to rise, only to promptly fall, face first, back into the snow.

“Just what kind of idiot are you?” Arthur reached down to pull Merlin to his feet only for Merlin to intake a sharp breath through his teeth. Arthur released him immediately, leaning down instead to figure out where the injury lay. “Only you, Merlin, would wander out into the woods alone, get trapped under a tree that weighs far less than you do, and manage to hurt yourself in the process. What would you have done if I hadn’t wandered out—,”

Arthur had helped Merlin roll over onto his back, giving him the first clear view of the other man. His stomach gave a disturbed twist at what he saw. Merlin had always been slight in build; slim, long limbs, pronounced cheek-bones, elegant bone structure. In Arthur’s more fanciful moments, he imagined that there was something almost fey in Merlin’s appearance. It leant him an air of grace that was completely contrary to the reality of Merlin. 

Somehow, slim had become far-too-thin. Merlin looked practically haggard. His cheeks were too sharp, lips that usually looked full and supple, were dry now, chapped and peeling. He looked as though he’d given up half way through shaving. His eyes had dark shadows under them as though he hadn’t slept for days. This was not the man that Arthur knew in passing. What had happened to Morgana’s best friend?

Come to think of it, Arthur hadn’t seen much of Merlin since the repast. Morgana had become distracted with the appearance of a half-sister from her mother’s side of the family and had been spending less time with Arthur, meaning less information on the ins and outs of Merlin’s life. He did remember her mentioning some weeks ago that Merlin had been having a rough time of it since his uncle’s passing, but that was to be expected. Gaius had been Merlin’s last living relative. Arthur hadn’t given the matter much thought beyond the general sympathy one feels for those who suffer a loss, but now…

“Are you just going to stare at me all day, or are you going to help me out of the snow?”

The question startled Arthur out of his thoughts. 

“I should leave you here,” he commented, beginning a systematic check of Merlin’s limbs for signs of damage. “It would serve you right for being so ridiculous.”

“You don’t have to paw at me like that. I can tell you now that I’ve twisted my left ankle.”

Arthur gave a half-hearted glare, but moved to the specified limb. Being in such close contact, Arthur could feel how Merlin was shivering with cold. He wasn’t properly dressed for the weather, the thin trousers he was wearing already soaked through with melted snow, his jacket more of a winder breaker than a proper coat. The boots he was wearing were at least high laced, which would give the ankle some support while Arthur helped him back to the house.

“Alright. Looks like you’re going to live. For now,” he said, looking up Merlin’s body to meet his eyes. “Since I’d rather not have to deal with your frozen corpse, I’ll need to take you back to the house to see how bad it is.”

“I’ll be fine, Arthur,” Merlin said, pulling his ankle from Arthur’s grip and making all the appearances of attempting to stand on his own again. Arthur promptly moved to support some of his weight so that there would not be a repeat face-planting. “Just help me to my car and I’ll be on my way. I’ll come back for the tree another day.”

Arthur, being a man of clearly higher intelligence than the one he was dealing with, did not dignify the statement with a response. Instead he began moving back towards the main house, and Merlin, showing the first scrap of sense since the encounter began, came with him quietly.

-:- -:- -:-

Merlin Emerson had been an anomaly in Arthur’s life from the moment they had been introduced. Morgana had a habit of adopting lost causes, and Arthur was sure that Merlin was just the flavor of the week the first time that Morgan brought him home. It had been several years past, just after Morgana had dragged Arthur into their first joint show of rebellion against their father by moving out of the estate where they had spent their entire lives and into a flat in Hammersmith to be closer to other students from their University.

It hadn’t been a day after they’d unpacked the kitchen when Morgan had dragged the skinny whip of a boy into the flat, pale and shaking, eyes big as saucers, looking for all the world like he’d been kidnapped, not invited into someone’s home. Knowing Morgana, kidnapping was likely closer to the truth. Poor Merlin spent the entire time that he was there trying to find a way to politely excuse himself. Of course, Morgana would have none of it, not when she had discovered Gaius’ mysterious nephew at last. Once he realized that he wouldn’t be leaving any time soon, Merlin had relaxed. He reveled himself to be a simple but honest sort. A bit of a strange sense of humor, but a smile that could stop traffic and steal your heart right out your chest.

Arthur had continued unpacking. 

Merlin had been a bit of a complication in Arthur’s life for a long time. Bashful, but intelligent; quiet yet forthright in his opinions. Open about everything when Arthur had always been so very closed. There had been something about Merlin that Arthur could never quite name, and that something made him very uncomfortable; enough so that he never made much effort to get any closer to the strange young man than Morgana required him to be.

-:- -:- -:-

“Put this on,” Arthur said, handing Merlin one of the thickest, warmest robes that he owned along with a t-shirt and a pair of sweats. He’d helped Merlin to one of the smaller sitting rooms in the house, one with a fireplace in addition to the central heating that regulated the estate’s temperature. A sitting room that was also conveniently adjacent to Arthur’s personal suite of rooms. It would provide a place for the clothes to dry and warm Merlin much faster.

“I’ll be back with tea in a moment.” Arthur did his best to sound as put-upon as possible so that Merlin would not get the wrong idea. Arthur was not happy to help him. Arthur wanted Merlin out of his hair as quickly as possible so that Arthur could get back to working his way through the holiday season as he did every year. After all, Christmas was only four days away, and he had set the goal for himself to finish at least two sample proposals in preparation for a merger that might happen at some point early next year. One could never be too prepared. 

He made his way into the kitchenette attached to the sitting room and prepared a pot of Merlin’s favorite tea (orange spice). He added honey to the tray (fresh from the comb) and a dish with a few ice cubes (so that you don’t burn your tongue) and no, Arthur did not find it strange that he knew exactly how Merlin liked his tea or that he had all of the required items on hand. Surely Morgana was to blame. While he waited for the water to boil, he pulled out some cheese and crackers to add to the tray and called the kitchen to have the on-staff cook prepare a late lunch for two and have it brought to the sitting room.

When Arthur returned, it was to find Merlin without a shirt on, struggling with the boot that was tied around his left ankle. From where he stood, Arthur had a clear view of every bony, prominent nob of Merlin’s spine. Arthur knew what that back was supposed to look like, and it wasn’t that. The twisting in his stomach wound just a bit tighter.

“You really are completely useless aren’t you?” Arthur said, setting the tray down and pushing Merlin’s hands away. They were still far too cold for Arthur’s liking. 

“I’m fine,” Merlin grumbled, trying (and failing) to push Arthur’s hands away. 

“It is a mystery how you’ve survived this long in life, Merlin. Really.” Arthur said this as he pushed the t-shirt into Merlin’s hands and began working at untying the laces. The ankle had swollen enough to make the job difficult. Deciding to skip the hassle, Arthur pulled out a pocketknife and, ignoring Merlin’s yelp of protest, cut the laces away.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Arthur told him. “Just be glad I didn’t have to cut through the boot.

“How am I suppose to where a boot with no laces!?” Merlin always had something to add to the conversation.

“There’s this wonderful place called a store, Merlin. There are many wonders found there, including shiny new laces. Now stop squirming. I’m actually trying not to hurt you.”

“Well you’re doing a bang up job of it,” Merlin grit out through clenched teeth.

Arthur frowned at this. The swelling was pretty bad. Bad enough to make difficult what should have been a very simple process.

“Stop being such a girl, Merlin,” Arthur said, slowing his process and attempting to be more gentle with the injury. The boot came free. The sock came off next, and finally, the damage was revealed. It was clearly a very bad sprain, if not a fracture.

“I’ll ice and wrap this for you,” Arthur said, “But you’ll probably want to take a trip to A&E to have it x-rayed. It could be broken.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Merlin said, grabbing the robe from his pile and wrapping it around himself like a blanket. “If you give me the bandage, I can wrap it myself and be out of your way.”

“Knowing you, Merlin, you’d manage to muck up even something as simple as wrapping an ankle. I’d rather take care of this likely sprain than have to deal with the definite break you’d make out of it.”

Merlin was clearly out of sorts because Arthur could tell that his words were bothering the other man. Though they were not close friends, he and Merlin usually shared a comfortable banter between them. Merlin was not adding his share to the conversation so far, and that left Arthur at a loss for how to deal with him.

“I can take care of myself you know,” Merlin said, something like anger coloring his voice. “I’m not some helpless child.”

Arthur paused in his work. “Merlin, I’m perfectly aware that you are not a child, even though you’re acting like one right now. Why is it so difficult for you to sit quietly and let me help?”

“Because I don’t want or need your pity.” There was definitely bitterness in that one. Arthur watched him a moment longer before focusing his attention back to the task at hand.

“No one said anything about pity,” he said to Merlin’s ankle. “It’s this what friends are supposed to do? Look out for each other?”

Merlin snorted. “Since when are we friends?”

“Friendly acquaintances, then. We’ve known each other long enough to qualify for at least that, yeah?”

Another snort, though this one came with a smile. “I supposed,” he said. Arthur felt the tension leave his muscles as he finally relaxed into the cushions. Arthur returned the smile.

“Besides, Morgana would castrate me if I let you out in this condition.”

Somehow the line didn’t earn him the broader smile Arthur had been aiming for. Instead, Merlin seemed to sink into himself, eyes losing focus, thoughts turning inward. 

“Morgana would castrate me if she knew the condition I’m in,” he said with a smile that lacked any humor. I was clear that they were not referring to the same conditions.

Rather than addressing the issue, Arthur chose to play dumb. He finished wrapping the ankle, propped it up on a pillow on the arm of the couch above heart level, generally keeping himself busy as he said, “What do you mean?”

Merlin saw straight through the ploy. He actually laughed at the question.

“I have a mirror, Arthur. I know that I’m not exactly looking my finest at the moment, not that it would be particularly impressive even if I were.” 

Arthur was not good at these things; conversation and feelings and the like. He never knew what he was supposed to say, but it was clear that Merlin wanted to talk. Why on earth he’d chosen Arthur of all people to be the one he opened up to was mystifying, and Arthur was terrified that he was about to make the situation worse, but there was nothing for it. 

“I did notice you’d lost a bit of weight,” he said, avoiding eye contact by busying himself collecting the supplies he’d been using. It was not a particularly good distraction as the “supplies” consisted of the bandage he’d used for wrapping and the cold pack that had been wrapped beneath it. Since each of those items were presently on Merlin, cleanup consisted of throwing the packaging away. “Have you been ill?” 

Merlin chuckled and said, “I suppose that is one way of looking at it.”

The words were mostly spoken to himself, and Arthur could do nothing but fidget in the silence that followed.

“I guess I just forgot how to live for a while,” Merlin finally continued after a long awkward (for Arthur) pause. “After Gaius, I mean. I told everyone that I just needed time; that I would be fine, but really I just didn’t want them to know how much I was falling apart inside.”

Arthur closed his eyes as a rush of feeling overwhelmed him for a moment. He knew too well what that was like. He still couldn’t say if he’d every really recovered from his mother’s death and it had been almost a fifteen years.

“Temporary insanity. I suppose that explains the stunt you were pulling with the tree.” It was a poor attempt at humor but somehow, Merlin laughed at it anyway.

“You’re closer to the truth than you know. I’ve been moping around so long, barely eating, barely sleeping, then I realized it was almost Christmas, and Gaius and I always…once I’d moved in with him, we’d always go out and get a tree together…”

Arthur could fill in the rest. He already knew. He’d been to the little house Gaius and Merlin shared on more than one occasion during the holidays, seen the tree decorated with pinecones and tinsel, sparkling with lights. Morgana had found it all quite darling. Wouldn’t shut up about it even after the holidays ended. Ranted on and on about how much happier Gaius seemed with Merlin in his life.

The arrival of lunch saved Arthur from the need to comment further.

“You ordered lunch?” Merlin asked, a genuine, though somewhat bemused, smile pulling at his lips. “Do I really look that bad?”

“Can you blame me?” Arthur asked accepting the cart of covered dishes and nodding his thanks to the young man who had brought it. “You’ve made it abundantly clear that you can’t take care of yourself. Someone has to see to your wellbeing.”

The comment didn’t come out half as joking as Arthur had meant it to. It left Merlin watching him with strange eyes, a look Arthur did his best to ignore as he uncovered the dishes to see what they were having for lunch. Curry.

“Is that paneer curry?” Merlin asked, smile pulling wider.

“It would appear so,” Arthur said serving up two portions over rice with Naan on the side.

“And I suppose it’s pure coincidence that the kitchen is serving vegetarian options today while I’m here, is it?”

“Of course it’s coincidence, Merlin. What else would it be? Now eat. You look like you’re going to keel over where you lay.”

Merlin didn’t say anything else, simply did as he was told. But the shadow that had been within his eyes since Arthur had discovered him in the snow seemed to have lifted some, the smile on his face closer to the one that Arthur remembered. They ate together in silence, and there was nothing awkward about it at all.

-:- -:- -:-

The truth was that even though Arthur never asked for it, he craved everything that Morgana had to say about Merlin. He pretended not to care, he pretended not to listen, but he would never stop her from yammering on and on. He’d come to expect it from his sister; had come to rely on it even. He was pretty sure that Morgana knew. They may only share a single parent, but the Pendragon blood ran true. She’d always had the uncanny ability to read Arthur in ways that Arthur couldn’t even read himself. Because the truth was, that from that first day that they had met, to Arthur’s eyes, Merlin had been awkward, ungainly, and perfectly lovely in ways that Arthur had not at the time been ready for. After a while, it was just easier to feign indifference than try to bridge the gap confusion had created from the start.

-:- -:- -:-

Arthur stood in the snow, hesitating. He hated hesitating. The very idea of it went against everything his father had ever taught him. Still, Arthur found himself standing there, in the same place he’d been two days before, staring at the wreckage left over from Merlin’s failed attempt at tree hunting. In those two days, Arthur had done his level best to get back into his work mentality. Holidays were not something that he did unless forced. Morgana was out of the country with her sister. Uther was away for work. Arthur should have been perfectly content to sit in his study and focus on things to come in the new year.

Merlin had disrupted all of that.

Since that day, Arthur couldn’t stop thinking about the other man. The memory of his skin, warm under Arthur’s fingers, seemed to be permanently pressed into the sensory memory of his hands. The image of Merlin sprawled out on the couch in Arthur’s sitting room, the memory of the sadness in Merlin’s eyes melting away as they ate together. It had felt good; felt right. He couldn’t help wonder whether Merlin was eating properly now that he was on his own again, or if he was even able to get around well with his injured ankle. And then of course there was the tree.

It was the day before Christmas, and Merlin’s tree was still lying there in the snow where it had fallen. Had Merlin been able to get another one, or was he sitting in his home alone sans tree for the holiday? Ultimately, it really wasn’t any of Arthur’s business, as Merlin had made clear, they were not actually friends. But the idea of it didn’t sit right with Arthur. He knew too much about Merlin to be able to rest easy with the image of Merlin sitting in that cozy little home, alone on Christmas hovering in his head.

That pretty much decided it. He grabbed the tree, grabbed the sled. Grabbed everything else that looked like it belonged to Merlin, and set off to his car.

:~o~:~o~:~o~:

It was the worst Christmas that Merlin had seen in a very long time. He hadn’t felt this low since his mother had passed. But it had been years now. He’d found some level of peace with the gaping wound in his heart that he knew would never fully heal. Somehow he’d forgotten how much it hurt when the loss was fresh. Merlin had known that Gaius would not be with him forever. His uncle had been an old man for as long as Merlin could remember. It was a gift that he’d lived a life as long as he did. But he had been all the family that Merlin had left, and losing him hit harder than expected. Suddenly, he was alone in the world, and no amount of friendship or comfort could change the fact that, with Gaius’ passing, he had become a man without a family.

He could look back now with eyes clear enough to understand that he’d fallen into deep depression; was probably still treading those dark waters if he were perfectly honest with himself. He’d managed to surface long enough to realize that if he didn’t at least try to pull himself out of it soon, he would be in trouble. He’d pushed everyone else away, most others were away with their families. He only had himself to depend on in this.

Which is perhaps why he had been caught so flat-footed when Arthur Pendragon had appeared, seemingly out of the blue. Merlin had no idea why Arthur was at his family’s home as opposed to the flat he shared with Morgana, but he didn’t much care either. Those precious few hours he’d spent in Arthur’s company were a glowing beacon of happiness in a fog of what sometimes felt like endless sorrow. He’d never experienced Arthur like that before. Morgan spoke of her brother enough that Merlin felt like he knew everything about the other man, but he generally only shared time with Arthur if Morgana or some of their other mutual friends were present. It was rare to speak with Arthur alone, and it had never happened for quite so long.

That moment only served to cement the attraction that Merlin had felt for the blond man for several years now. Arthur was an enigma to Merlin. He was not quiet, nor was he unapproachable, but there always seemed to be a shell around him that only applied to Merlin. Merlin had long ago given up on the idea that there would ever be anything romantic between them, but the time they’d spent together that day in the Pendragon Manor had felt so right. It made him want. And though those moments would be forever pressed into Merlin’s memory to hold onto and keep tucked safely forever in his heart, it was also a cruel taunt of what could have been but never would be. 

Merlin lay on the old, worn brown sued couch in what had been Gaius’ home for years before Merlin had come, ankle elevated, doing his level best to just stop thinking. He’d managed a meager meal of boiled oats the day before, but couldn’t be bothered to get up and put any effort into preparing something for himself so far today. Besides, he hadn’t been shopping in a week and his refrigerator was largely empty with the exception of a bottle of milk that had probably turned by now and a couple of eggs. 

The knock that came at the door at half past two was wholly unexpected. He considered ignoring it for a moment, but he wasn’t so far gone that curiosity didn’t touch him. He couldn’t help but wonder who would be paying him a visit on the day before Christmas. Merlin had a moment of concern for himself when it took him considerably more effort than he thought should have been needed to pull himself up from the couch.

“One moment,” he called out, voice surprisingly clear considering how little he’d used it recently. He made a vain attempt to straighten himself as he hobbled towards the door before shrugging it off. Whoever was there would just have to deal with him as he was.

He opened the door to be greeted with…a great deal of foliage; a tree unless he missed his guess. 

“I do realize that this might be a difficult idea for you to process, but a bit of help getting this thing through the door would be appreciated.” 

The words pulled him from his shock into immediate action, but he was running largely on autopilot. He grabbed the tree and pulled from his end, only then did his visitor actually make an appearance from beyond the foliage. Merlin’s mind was still struggling to process the reality of Arthur’s voice there in his home, the sight of him looking handsome in a fitted woolen coat in tan, cheeks red from cold or exertion or both, it was almost more than he could take at once. 

When the tree was clear of the door, Arthur carried the rest of the way into the flat, leaning it against a wall before pulling his gloves off and turning to look at a still stunned Merlin. Arthur gave Merlin a once over, making Merlin regret not putting more effort into his appearance before opening the door.

“As expected,” Arthur said with a sigh. “You really are hopeless aren’t you, Merlin?”

“Wh-what are you doing here?” Merlin finally managed to get out as Arthur stepped over to him and began guiding him away from the door.

“You left this mess lying about my family’s property,” Arthur said. “Since I know you are currently unable to retrieve it, I’ve come to deliver it to you.”

“But—” Merlin wasn’t sure what was meant to come after that. He was having a hard time keeping up. He had a vague thought that he didn’t have anything to decorate with because he hadn’t pulled the ornaments out of storage yet. Before the notion could fully form, however, he found himself being shoved towards the bathroom.

“Get cleaned up while I get the rest,” Arthur told him, “You’re a mess. And do something about your face while you’re at it.”

Merlin ran a hand over the hair that had grown on his face over the past several days. He’d tried to shave once, but the razor gave him strange thoughts and he’d set it aside, not trusting himself in his current state of mind.

“The rest?” he asked, making an attempt to get some kind of handle on the situation. 

“Will you please just do as you’re told for once in your life?” Arthur shoved him into the bathroom then turned to leave, sending a warning look over his shoulder. Merlin was too dumbfounded to do anything but comply. 

He took his time in the bathroom, pinching himself a few times to be sure he wasn’t actually lost in some kind of mad fever dream brought on by listlessness and near starvation. After stepping out of the water, he could hear Arthur in the other room bumping around doing lord knows what, but the surreality of the situation was that Arthur was really there. Merlin wasn’t imagining it, and that alone was enough to get him to put actual effort into his appearance for the first time in months.

He shaved carefully avoiding nicks as best he could. His hair was largely a lost cause, but Merlin tried. He toweled it dry and added a bit of product that was supposed to give it volume before pushing through the second door in the bathroom that led to his room. He picked through his clothes in despair. Almost everything he owned was in rumpled heaps around the room, and he’d lost so much weight that nothing fit well anymore. 

He grabbed a pair of jeans that had once been a bit snug but now hung low on his hips, and grabbed pale blue button up that Gwen had once told him brought out the color of his eyes. There was no reason to believe his appearance should matter at all, but he couldn’t think of why else Arthur would be there if he didn’t care at least a little. It couldn’t hurt for him to put some attention into his look.

Merlin exited his room to be greeted by a house that had somehow been transformed in the half hour it had taken him to bathe and dress. There was a table spread with food that hadn’t been there before (the food or the table.) A fire was merrily crackling in a fireplace that was decorated with pine boughs and holly. The tree still lay against the wall looking sad and abandoned, but there were boxes of decorations strewn about just waiting to give it the attention it craved. Merlin’s head was spinning.

“What’s all this?!” he asked, flummoxed. Arthur gave a somewhat nervous smile in response.

“Happy Christmas I suppose,” he said, clearing his throat. “After the other day, I realized that we would both be spending the holiday alone and well…knowing how hopeless and generally girly you tend to be, I realised, well…”

Looking back on it, Merlin would someday recognize just how thoroughly Arthur was murdering the delivery, but Merlin had always had the uncanny ability to hear through Arthur’s bluster. “You want to spend Christmas together?” he cut into Arthur’s words, just to be sure he was understanding properly.

“Well, yes. I suppose that is the gist of it.”

Merlin smiled. He couldn’t help it. Of all possible ways he expected to spend his holiday, sharing it with Arthur Pendragon ranked somewhere between sharing chestnuts with Jack Frost and spending the holiday with Jolly Old St. Nick himself! 

He was practically vibrating with joy as he stepped further into the living room. They ate first, at Arthur’s insistence, a simple lunch of soup and sandwiches with plenty of hot tea. Next they wrestled the tree into its stand, Arthur holding it whilst Merlin squirmed on his belly to screw it into the base. It really was a more ridiculously complicated process than it should have been, tree falling over twice before it got itself sorted but they spent the whole time swearing and laughing in turn, and Merlin couldn’t have been happier for it. 

Next came lights and decorations. Merlin was more than happy to use the tinsel and ornaments that Arthur had brought to decorate the tree that he had chosen. It was somehow easier this way, without the reminders of Gaius that would have been salt in a wound that was still raw. Instead there was only the joy of having Arthur there with him, hands brushing as they worked together, touches becoming more frequent and less accidental as time went on.

When it was done, Merlin stepped back, leaning on the couch to take weight off of still-sore ankle and admired their work, feeling lighter and more like himself than he had in ages.

“It’s passable, isn’t it?” Arthur asked, stepping to his side to take it all in with him. He’d been banging around the kitchen and returned with a tray of tea.

“Passable?” Merlin scoffed, stepping out of the way so that Arthur could set the tray down on the coffee table. “It’s brilliant! Much more that I could have hoped for this year. Any year really…”

“Well,” Merlin looked at Arthur who had settled into the couch and was pouring the tea now, keeping his hands busy, avoiding Merlin’s eyes; all classic signs of nerves. Why would Arthur be nervous now after how much time they’d spent together comfortably? 

Arthur set a cup near Merlin and Merlin sat to take it.

“I did have one other, um, other decoration. It’s rather silly, really. Something we can throw away if you like but…”

Merlin watched Arthur struggle with himself a few moments more before he reached behind himself and pulled out a small bundle. He handed it to Merlin who unwrapped it carefully to reveal a sprig of mistletoe. 

Merlin’s heart stuttered in his chest for a moment before his eyes sought out Arthur again. Arthur, for his part, was doing his best to remain stoic. He was not doing a very good job. Despite clear effort prevent it, there were twin splotches of pink staining his cheeks and he was swallowing too much and blinking too little.

Merlin couldn’t believe it. There was no possible way to misinterpret the gesture and his heart ached as it swelled with the return of hopes and possibilities he’d log ago given up as hopeless and impossible. He didn’t know what to say.

The silence lasted too long and Arthur broke. “It was silly, I’m sorry. I’ll just toss it in the bin and we can—”

Merlin pulled the sprig away from Arthur’s reaching hand and lifted in so that it hung above their heads. He gave a shy smile and hoped that it was answer enough. Apparently it was. Arthur smiled, bright and beautiful, his teeth slightly crooked and completely perfect. 

“Oh,” he said, “In that case.” He leaned in and their lips brushed, gentle and testing. Merlin lowed his arm so that it rested on Arthur’s shoulder drawing him closer. Arthur was more than happy to oblige and shifted his position to deepen the kiss. 

Merlin moaned deep in the back of his throat, mind reeling. It felt so right to have Arthur there, pressing him into the cushions of the couch, tasting him, drinking him in like something rare and delicate that needed to be savored. He ran his hands through the silk of Arthur’s hair and laughed into their kiss when Arthur did the same, but moved one hand to softly pull at one of Merlin’s ears.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to nibble at these,” He said, moving his mouth away from Merlin’s lips to trail kisses up his jaw and gave the gentlest of nips before licking, toying and sucking at it, his hot breath ruffling Merlin’s hair. Merlin found that he rather enjoyed the attention.

“Why did it take so long for you to act on that impulse, you prat?” Merlin managed this somehow, though it was broken multiple time by gasps and moans. His ears were quite sensitive, and Arthur was quite talented with his tongue.

Merlin wasn’t sure if the message got through as Arthur shifted his attention to Merlin’s neck rather than answering. Merlin found that he didn’t much care. Arthur was making his nerves sing; waking feelings and emotions in him that he could hardly understand. He didn’t want to rush too quickly into anything more physical quite yet, but it was so hard to think with Arthur’s firm weight pressing him into the couch, the firmness of his growing erection firm against Merlin’s thigh. He still couldn’t believe that Arthur Pendragon actually wanted him, but it would be difficult to dispute the evidence.

Merlin lost himself to the moment. Wrapped himself in Arthur, the feel and smell of him, his touch, his warmth, the gasping breaths he took when Merlin shifted just so, his chest-deep moans as Merlin returned the favor and feasted on his neck and jaw. He thought he’d never get enough of him, but there was something niggling at his attention, a distraction. He wanted to ignore it but…

“Do you smell that?” He asked breathily between kisses.

“What?” Arthur asked, just as lust dazed as Merlin. Then, “Shit!” Arthur was gone. In a flash of a moment, his weight has vanished and Merlin had to take a moment to get his head together before rolling over on the couch to peer over the arm to his tiny kitchen. Arthur was there banging about again, only this time he seemed a bit more frantic. The air smelled of ginger, sugar, and burning.

By the time Merlin managed to rise from the couch and make his way to the kitchen, Arthur had a tray of gingerbread men lying atop the stove looking mournfully scorched.

“When did you have time to make gingerbread?” Merlin asked, trying his best to hold back laughter.

“Margot was making them at the estate. She saved a tray for me. Said that even I couldn’t mess up setting temperature and a timer.”

“I didn’t hear a timer,” Merlin snickered.

“I, uh, forgot to set it.”

That was it. Merlin burst into hearty guffaws, holding the counter for support. The pouting look on Arthur’s face was priceless!

“See if I ever try to surprise you again,” Arthur groused. Merlin smiled at him fondly, leaned in and stole a kiss, the reality of being able to still sending a thrill down his spine.

“Next time, you should probably finish the baking before having your wicked way with me. Besides, they’re only a little crunchy.” He grabbed one and took a bite. There was definitely the taste of char, but there was also the spicy-sweet of gingerbread. He’d had worse things in his life.

“Don’t eat that!” Arthur said, laughing as he smacked the little man from Merlin’s hands.

“I’ll eat them if I want,” Merlin shot back. “Look, these aren’t even charred.”

Arthur grumbled about it, but in the end, they were able to salvage half the tray of gingerbread men. They set them aside on a plate and Arthur smiled as he reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of eggnog that Merlin had somehow missed. He poured a cup for each of them and they settled back on the couch with frosting and cadies to decorate the gingerbread with.

It was dark out by then, and they sat in the light of the tree and crackling fire, drawing funny frosting faces and feeding each other gingerbread. Merlin couldn’t remember ever seeing Arthur look so at ease and happy. It set a glowing warmth alight in his heart. Merlin smiled as Arthur took a sip of his nog that left a line of white above his lip. He took the opportunity to swallow his bite of gingerbread then lean forward to kiss the lingering eggnog away.

Arthur accepted the kiss, and Merlin deepened it as he chased the taste of ginger and bourbon on Arthur’s tongue. 

“Happy Christmas, Arthur,” he said when they pulled apart. Arthur looked at him with a gentle smile, stroking a finger along his ear, leaned in and pressed a single chaste kiss to Merlin’s lips before he spoke.

“It certainly is.”

 

End.

**Author's Note:**

> For info on story updates and general blathering on my various adventures in writing and plotting, popped over to: finem.livejournal.com


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